^Rhino! wrote:"Don't laugh, I have the distinction of having drilled into one of the Center Camp electrical grid lines 9 or 10 years ago. Having rainbow spaghetti come up in the auger when you're setting posts for a stupid shade structure in a vast desert is not a pleasant feeling."

I've excavated in the default world for nearly 18 yrs., and I've never understood utility strikes, never having had one (and I've done literally thousands of borings over the years.) Is BRC a member of one-call in the state of Nevada?

Or is it still safety third?

[/quote]

There are utilities under the playa?

"I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway."Jesus fuckhole, what the fuck was that?"Playa dust might be the cleanest, most corrosive filth you'll ever love," Savannah said.

thought id post this for shits and giggles...thank you whoever posted this on Youtube!
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnUO9GIbE6E&feature=autoplay&list=PLFE32F3373C8FAFBD&index=8&playnext=3[/youtube]

Snow wrote:I had to drill next to a major military fiber optic line that happened to run through my cleanup site in Fallon. I was sweating bullets the whole time. Luckly there was no incident.

That's how the modern wilderness survival kit works: it consists of a length of fiber and a trenching shovel. If you find yourself lost in the woods, use the shovel to bury the fiber. Then stand back and wait for the backhoe to show up.

Snow wrote:I had to drill next to a major military fiber optic line that happened to run through my cleanup site in Fallon. I was sweating bullets the whole time. Luckly there was no incident.

That's how the modern wilderness survival kit works: it consists of a length of fiber and a trenching shovel. If you find yourself lost in the woods, use the shovel to bury the fiber. Then stand back and wait for the backhoe to show up.

hahaha, so true.....

I've always said, if you can't find a water pipe, in a ten acre field, sit me on a backhoe and I'll hit it in 5 minutes.

Since there's a load of calcite involved, you get that off and dissolved with a little bit of apple cider vinegar (weak acetic acid). Next, to get the clays to stick together and come off, you need a little bit of flocculant, and then a little anionic surfactant.

For the flocculant, I'd use a weak solution of sodium hexametaphosphate (Calgon), and add in something so it doesn't stick...the anionic surfactant. To keep clay off drilling tools, we actually have used Cascade liquid dishwashing detergent. Not only do you get the clay not forming a big-assed 'boot' on your drill bit, but you get a lemon-fresh job site.

I'll be experimenting with varying concentrations over the next few months and on-playa as well. We'll see what happens.

Since there's a load of calcite involved, you get that off and dissolved with a little bit of apple cider vinegar (weak acetic acid). Next, to get the clays to stick together and come off, you need a little bit of flocculant, and then a little anionic surfactant.

For the flocculant, I'd use a weak solution of sodium hexametaphosphate (Calgon), and add in something so it doesn't stick...the anionic surfactant. To keep clay off drilling tools, we actually have used Cascade liquid dishwashing detergent. Not only do you get the clay not forming a big-assed 'boot' on your drill bit, but you get a lemon-fresh job site.

I'll be experimenting with varying concentrations over the next few months and on-playa as well. We'll see what happens.

Interesting you should mention "vinegar"....after a foot injury, one of the meds washed my foot with vinegar/ water....and told me to do it daily, to prevent playa foot.

I still have embedded playa dust in the car, on camera lenses (not the glass, but plastic parts like lens hoods, fucking plastic) and a waxed canvas bike messenger bag. Its on the tent, drilling hammer, rebar, bag for the shade and the shade itself, the battery-powered radio I used to for BMIR and some other stuff.

In a way I like the dust. It's a reminder of the epic time I had on the playa and the trip there and back through Nevada, New Mexico, Arizona and west Texas.

Normally I keep my gear clean and organized, but somehow the playa dust is nice to see for a few reasons. One reason is I think gear looks better a little worn like I've been somewhere; and secondly, the dust just reminds me of being in Black Rock City. Also, I can't go this year because of the ticket problem so it will be bittersweet in a few months when the city is booming.

That first post-playa shower in the motel in Hawthorne, NV was pretty nice, but I didn't feel grimy or dirty before. I took my time unpacking, gathering laundry, organizing, checking email and other minor things. I guess I just got used to being dusty, surrounded by dusty people in a dusty environment.

In BRC, I never went barefoot and kept my feet covered with clean socks in shoes (I slept barefoot though). Other than a seriously fucked up lip (I'll remember lip balm next time) I had no ill effect from the dust on my skin. I actually liked the environment and felt comfortable in it. I came from San Antonio, where I lived at the time, and it was hotter there than the playa and in an epic three-year drought. So the days in BRC felt comfortable by comparison.

I washed my clothes like normal in the motel's laundromat with whatever detergent was in the vending machine and everything looked fine. I gave some Germans (who were also en route from BRC) a pile of quarters for the machine. When one of them tried to hand me some dollar bills, I was a little confused and politely didn't take them. Not being in BRC hadn't set in yet, although something felt wrong on the way out, but I thought it was some other things going on (my travel plans changed to go to a funeral en route).

And, when I lay my head to sleep in the quiet darkness of the lonely motel room, I cried uncontrollably. I had symptoms of mild PTSD, which is oddly normal after leaving Black Rock City, and it took a couple of months before I was right again. The profound psychological effect and the horror of returning to the hideous suburban life was MUCH worse than chapped lips. Reliving it now, is actually sort of difficult and my eyes are tearing up writing and editing this.

I have a pair of new Doc Martens boots on and I think they need a coat of playa dust. I want to go to the playa right now, although I imagine it's still flooded from winter.

"I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway."Jesus fuckhole, what the fuck was that?"Playa dust might be the cleanest, most corrosive filth you'll ever love," Savannah said.

I ran into old friends, made new ones, ran into people who lived near me when I was in Connecticut. I never ran into the girl whom I've run into in two different states and probably missed other people I knew.

I never rode on an art car but I saw so much crazy shit it made up for it.

An Austrian girl and I were explaining Burning Man -- or trying to -- to a girl from New Jersey who never heard of it. Since were were in Austin when that happened, I expect to find them there in the dust. Austin has those strange moments of path-crossing and connection that Black Rock City has.

Here I ran into a dude I knew in Connecticut and hadn't seen in a few years. He recognized me but I couldn't remember his name. In both places there is no point looking for people. Either your paths will cross on their own or they will not.

"I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway."Jesus fuckhole, what the fuck was that?"Playa dust might be the cleanest, most corrosive filth you'll ever love," Savannah said.